


Breakfast

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Breakfast, Comment Fic, Community: jim_and_bones, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard makes Jim pancakes for breakfast</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [lovely Daily Captain/ Daily Doctor pictures](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/552623.html) posted on jim_and_bones, whereupon a shot of Chris Pine’s puppy eyes inspired this little domestic AU ficlet.  
> Also, today would have been the lovely DeForest Kelley’s 92nd birthday.

Jim watched as Leonard bustled about the kitchen, lemon-yellow sunlight breaking through the fog of outside for the first time that morning. The kitchen itself was chilly, heat from the fire nearby only just beginning to take effect and spread some warmth through the January air. Leonard turned, large hands descending upon the bowl of batter mix as he mumbled a quiet song beneath his breath.

Jim smiled to himself, glad that he was the only one to ever see Leonard quite this way, bustling around the kitchen and making breakfast pancakes, obviously contented in a way that he never was upon the Enterprise. It was a rare, but much coveted sight for Jim, and he loved to watch the confident, fluid lines of Leonard’s body working beneath his thick pyjamas, hands good for more than just surgical procedures and tender caresses, feet snug in the slippers Jim had purchased for him for Christmas.

“Dammit,” Leonard cursed when a splatter of pancake batter hit the floor beside his right foot.

“Here, let me get that,” Jim said, making a move as though to rise, stalled only when Leonard raised a warning hand.

“No, I got it, Jim. You sit there, m‘dear,” Leonard said, a clear order in his voice.

He bent to dab the mess from the tiles beneath his slippered feet, providing Jim with a clear view of the other man’s ass. Jim made an approving noise and didn’t move a muscle. Leonard cast an amused smile over his shoulder, as though he’d known why Jim had made the noise that he had, and returned his attention quietly to the pancakes.

Silence held sway, broken only by the sizzle and crackle of pancakes cooking in the pan, golden discs flipped expertly by Leonard’s spatula. Jim sat back, hands folded over his slim abdomen, reaching forward occasionally to pluck his coffee mug from the table before him and sipping the dark liquid slowly. Soon, Leonard made his way towards the table, hands laden with a plate piled high with freshly cooked pancakes, which he placed in front of Jim.

“Can I have some maple syrup, please?” Jim asked, turning expressively large blue eyes up to Leonard.

Leonard harrumphed, always a sucker for one of Jim’s patented puppy-dog looks, further enforced by an innocent curve of smiling lips.

“You’ve got me wrapped round your damned little finger, you bastard,” Leonard muttered, as he cupped the back of Jim’s head with one warm hand and leant in.

Jim was smiling when Leonard pressed a warm kiss against his mouth, before mourning the warmth of the other man when Leonard walked away again. He kept his puppy-eyes in place, until Leonard had poured the requested syrup liberally over his pancakes.

“Thanks, babe,” Jim said, wrapping one arm around Leonard’s waist and resting his cheek against the other man’s stomach.

He felt Leonard’s resulting chuckle vibrate against his cheek and the comforting weight of Leonard's hand upon the back of his head again.

“Eat your pancakes, darlin’,” Leonard said, before he bent awkwardly to drop a kiss against the top of Jim’s head.

Jim nodded against Leonard’s soft abdomen, but didn’t start eating until the other man was seated and had broken into his own pile of syrup coated pancakes. They ate in silence then, fire crackling through the early morning air as they ate their early morning breakfast.


End file.
